TRP: Hansel, Mishka, and Roddy (Drowning)
Abby: Reception Night, Day 200. Post Absinthe that's all I got. You know of all the situations Roddy'd expected this morning- carrying around Mishka's drunk to the point of passing out self around, looking for Hansel, and wondering what the heck had been going on in his brain wasn't one of them. (Although to be fair, 'rescuing Goro from pirates' or 'bickering with Morgan Wyn' hadn't been there either.) It took him a minute but eventually Roddy did find Hansel- who looked like he'd just gone swimming? (Roddy should learn that at some point. Later.) "Daaaad!" he stage whispered, speeding up slightly. Careful not to jostle Mishka too much though. "Dad I don't know what to do with him!" Izzy: Hansel was trying to uncork a fresh bottle of -- eh, whatever -- when he heard Roddy's voice and looked up, the cork popping out in his teeth. He squinted, fumbling to pull the cork off his tusk. Huh. Seemed like Mishka was unconscious. That checked out. Look at Roddy, though, being all careful and carrying him. God, that was cute. He tossed the cork away and wandered over to meet Roddy partway, giving Mishka another look to make sure he wasn't fuckin' ... actually dead, or something, but nodding with satisfaction that his husband was still breathing. Then he looked down at the bottle in his hand. Hmm. "Here, here. S'okay. Trade." He offered the bottle to Roddy, planting his feet and holding his other arm out to take Mishka off Roddy's hands. Abby: How was Roddy supposed to take the bottle when he had armfuls of Mishka. Uh. Okay. Roddy shifted around- carefully settled Mishka in Hansel's arm- and grabbed the bottle so his other one was free. Theregood. Mishka was now not his problem. "Is he okay?" Roddy asked. "He kinda. Cried a lot before-" he flapped his hand at Mishka's sleeping face. Izzy: "Aw." Hansel looked down at Mishka. He was gonna be so pissed, later, when he realized he'd let other people see him having emotions, and shit. Well, it was just Roddy. Roddy was family. "S'okay," he said again. "S'just ... real drunk. Shouldna started before the wedding." He shifted Mishka to hold him a little better, support his neck and all, and also to get him close enough that Hansel could kiss his forehead. So cute. Deadly pirate captain, knocked out in Hansel's arms. Then he looked back up to Roddy, squinting at him a bit. Man, probably hadn't been a great time, having Mishka cry on him, though. Poor kid. Good kid. Great kid. He tipped over a bit to kiss Roddy's forehead, too. "Y'havin' fun, kid? C'mon. Let's fuckin' ... sit down, or somethin'." He looked around and started for the fountain, to sit on the edge of it. Coyote: Mishka shifted, muttering in his sleep. His eyes cracked open a second, and he looked up at Hansel, then sighed happily and leaned into Hansel’s arms. He rubbed his face on Hansel, then went still again, closing his eyes. Abby: Roddy's hands came up to brace against Hansel's shoulders as he leaned in. He didn't look as- steady as usual. Still, he was grinning a little. Yeah- his dad loved him too. "Aright," he agreed, would have grabbed Hansel's arm as they walked, but- Mishka. Settled instead for sitting close, resting his head on Hansel's shoulders. "Mostly, I guess? It's a nice party. Just," he paused, tucking a stray strand of hair back behind Mishka's ear. "He said some stuff. And I've been thinking," Roddy said slowly. "Except I don't think it's a conversation to have while anyone's drunk, so." He shrugged. He was just stuck- thinking. Izzy: Hansel scoffed, settling down and resting Mishka partially in his lap, but just for some extra stability, 'cause he didn't have any intention of not also holding him. It'd be better if he didn't drop Mishka into the fountain, or something. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, Mishka says stuff." He rocked them both side to side a little. "Kinda stuff? 'm not that drunk." Coyote: “Dragons, Hansel,” Mishka muttered. He worked his way into Hansel’s jacket. “Pirates.” Abby: Roddy flinched at the bit about a dragon. That he started to sign- remembering belatedly that Hansel didn't know Nighthand. "I'm not even really sure," he said. "Just- worried me." Izzy: "Mm." Hansel nodded. Dragons. Pirates. Yes. He snuggled Mishka closer. "Nah, see. S'fine, kid. Gonna kill the dragon. No big deal." Abby: Okay wait. What was this now. Dad was in on this- well of course he was but- Roddy was not in on any of this! "Uh," Roddy pulled back a bit so he could look Hansel in the face. "Okay that's- that's one of the things that's bugging me? Because what dragon?" (Hadn't he planned on asking Mishka this? Well. Apparently not.) Coyote: Mishka squinted at Roddy, then pointed in the direction of Calimport. Then continued his nap. Izzy: Hansel nodded again, agreeing with the direction Mishka had pointed in. "Fuckin', uh ... tyrant ... rex ... whatever. That fuckin' bastard in Calimport." He scowled suddenly. "Try to tell my husband what to do. 's my job. Gonna kill it." Abby: "Calimport," Roddy repeated. Okay. There was a story here. And it had to be centered in freaking Calimport. "I have so many questions." Right now the main one being, was anyone sober enough to give him proper answers? Coyote: “I stole a scale from a dragon’s belly''' in Calimport, once,” Mishka said sleepily. '''Izzy: "You sure fuckin' did, ahuvi," Hansel said solemnly, then, "What questions? Gonna kill a dragon. Real simple." Abby: "Okay uh, for one- why? Also for another- when was someone gonna tell me about this?! And for another- they want me arrested in Calimport! That's not a question really!" Roddy was too sober for this. Except he had a feeling someone needed to be the sober one- and it sure wasn't either one of those two. Coyote: “Roddy,” Mishka said, still drowsy. “Shh. Shh. C’mere. I’ll tell you. All the secrets. All of ‘em. Pirate promise.” He cupped Roddy’s face and squished it. “I love you. You’re so great. Such a good turtle. There. Secrets. Sh, don’t tell.” Izzy: "Those are very good secrets, my love," Hansel said gently, and patted Mishka's cheek, keeping one arm around him. "Uh. Fuckin', uh, fuckin' dragon's ... just a real bastard. Real piece of shit." He didn't know if Mishka would be upset with him for spilling more than that. Fuck, had he already? Shit. "Just, uh. Just gotta kill it. S'fine. Hey, I killed a bear, by myself, all of us together, we can kill a dragon. No problem, kid. Don't even worry about it." Abby: You know it was very hard to pay attention to the fact questions were not really being answered when Mishka got- like that. You know what- this might be a good time for a group hug. Roddy tugged at Hansel's arm, squeezing under and wrapping his arms around both of them. There. That was better. "Well s'not a secret I love you too," he muttered to Mishka. "How about we talk about this when everybody's sober?" he suggested. "Not gonna have to fight a dragon soon. Can wait till the hangover wears off." Coyote: “Don’t hug me, I hate hugs,” Mishka muttered while snuggling closer. He sighed contentedly and hugged Roddy back. Izzy: This was fucking great. The fucking best. Best day. Hansel wondered where Luci and Goro were -- if he could get them both over here, too. God, that'd be fucking amazing. He made sure to keep a secure hold on Mishka, 'cause goddamn was that fucker drunk, but wrapped his other arm around Roddy, patting his shell. He was so sturdy. "You're such a good fuckin' kid. Love you so much," he mumbled. Abby: Roddy grinned. This was nice. Really nice. "Hey, Mishka, guess what," he whispered. "I'm hugging you." Snickering, he squeezed a little tighter. He was so affectionate when he was drunk. This was the best. Roddy had the best dads-- oh wait. Nope. Wasn't sure if Mishka wanted to be Other Dad. Nope. Just- forget that. Roddy tensed up and buried his face in Hansel's shoulder. Way to make it weird, Roddy. Coyote: “Rapscallion,” Mishka muttered fondly. He closed his eyes and drifted off again. “When I murder you all, I’ll kill you last.” Izzy: Hansel patted Mishka's cheek again, nodding. Fuckin' Mishka. He was so funny. Some people didn't think he was, but they were wrong. He was hilarious. Roddy might not think so, though, and it was okay, he could be wrong -- Hansel loved him -- so Hansel hugged the kid tighter. Abby: Well that was- well. That was Mishka. He was drunk. Supposed to be a compliment most likely. (Really- scary idea of a compliment.) "M'not gonna let you kill anybody," he muttered. "Well okay bad guys. But not us. You'd be too sad," Roddy said, patting Mishka's head. Coyote: Mishka burst into tears again. “I know,” he wailed, hugging Roddy tighter. Izzy: "God. Mishka, you gotta ..." Hansel shook his head. "You gotta fuckin' lay down, sweetheart. S'gonna be okay. I gotcha." His instinct was to pick Mishka up again and take him somewhere else, but he was all ... clingin' to Roddy, and shit, and it was really fucking adorable, so Hansel let it keep happening and just hugged his husband. Abby: Oh no. It happened again. "Dad! I didn't mean to!" Roddy wanted to wiggle away but- Mishka was clinging to him. And pulling away would make it worse. But! Crying!! "I'm sorry I'm sorry I didn't mean it, don't cry don't cry!" he babbled, patting Mishka's back and looking at Hansel, panicked. Coyote: Mishka stared blearily at Roddy. Then he started patting Roddy. “Roddy, Roddy, shh, shh, no, it’s fine, it’s okay. You didn’t do anything. You didn’t do anything! Shh, shh. Good Turtle Kid.” Izzy: Hansel started to pat Roddy at the same time Mishka did, nodding along, half talking over him. "S'okay, kid. S'fine. Don't worry 'bout it. We're just real drunk, kid. We're so fuckin' drunk. Bein' drunk gives Mishka emotions, is all. You're good," he said, and wrapped both arms around Mishka in an extremely awkward way to pull Mishka to his face. No one could know that Mishka had emotions all the time. Hansel would take that to his fucking grave. Abby: Dads were both saying it was fine. Okay. Okay. Settle Roddy settle. (And Dads? Had Roddy not just scolded himself about that already?) "Okay," he said. "I just. I like it when you're happy," he said, resting his hand on Mishka's back. "Like all of us to be happy. And all." Coyote: Mishka sniffled a bit, wiping his eyes on his purple scarf. Then he moaned, "Hans. Hans, I'm going to be so hungover. Get me some water. I'm going to die." Izzy: "You're not gonna die, khochav," Hansel said patiently. "S'all okay. I'll get you some water in a bit, 'kay?" He readjusted Mishka so that he could prop his chin on top of Mishka's head, tucking him comfortably against his chest. Fit just right. Puzzle pieces, or some shit. "S'okay, Roddy. Happy tears. S'okay." He remembered that first time Roddy had cried in front of him, how he'd acted like he didn't even know what was going on. Poor kid. He'd gotten so good. Hansel was so proud of him. He sniffled. Abby: "Are you crying too now?" Maybe Roddy should get drunk. Dealing with drunk people while sober was turning out not-fun. Yeah, excellent idea. Roddy wiggled out from under Hansel's arm. "I'll get water," he said. "And more booze. I need booze. Love you both!" Coyote: Roddy was gone for a few minutes. Mishka blinked hazily after him. Then he sighed again, happily, and dug his way farther into Hansel's jacket. "Hans. Hans, listen, he's gone. I have things to tell you." Izzy: Such a good kid. Hansel caught himself sniffling again and waited until Roddy was gone to wipe his eyes on Mishka's shoulder. No one'd notice. It was completely fine. "Yeah?" He rested his head on Mishka's again. "Yeah, Cap'n? Maybe I got shit to tell you too. I love you. How about that, huh. How fuckin' about that, ishi." Coyote: "Mm. Hm. Yes. That's what I was going to tell you as well. Yes. Also. You're so perfect, Hansel. You know, before-- before you were a bit different, you know that? When I first met you," Mishka mused aloud. He petted Hansel's face. "You were... all violent, shoving people away... but I looked you, and I thought... it was like you were some wounded animal, lashing out at people because you were afraid they'd hurt you. But there were these-- these moments, where I'd get hurt, and I was the captain, and I fucking needed you, and it was like... suddenly you were-- this entirely other person. You were always... so careful with me." He kept stroking Hansel's face. His speech was soft and slurred. "And then you... changed," Mishka murmured. "You were so much younger when I first met you. And then you got older. And I loved that version of you, too. And then after the shipwreck... I thought you were gone forever. But I loved that version of you, too. And y'know, you're-- different now than you used to be on the ship." Back on the ship, Hansel had been Weapon's Master Hansel Granger, his partner in crime, his brutal and unstoppable and sadistic right hand. Here, Hansel was something else. A father and a lover. Gentle. Sweet. Kind. Mishka used to wish that Hansel would back to his old self, but now he realized he didn't actually want Hansel to. "I love you," Mishka said. "All of you. All versions of you. No matter what you look like or how old you get or how you settle. I want you to know that, beloved. If you decided to take over the world tomorrow, I'd have your back. If you wanted to retire to a nice cottage by the seaside, I'd be there too." Izzy: "Pssshh." He was ... so drunk. They were both so drunk. That was the only reason he was all fuckin' embarrassed and shit. "Fuckin' ... fuck off, Mishka, god," he mumbled. "You're drunk." On the other hand, if he couldn't let his husband say nice things about him without grumbling about it, who the fuck was he going to listen to? It was fucking nice to hear, he guessed. Wasn't like Mishka was gonna lie to him. And he'd fuckin' know -- he fuckin' knew Hansel, had this entire fucking time. He scoffed again, and muttered, "Fuck off," again, but then he kissed Mishka's head and said, "Well, fuckin' ... guess what. S'your own fault, y'know. I never fucking cared about being careful with people 'til -- 'til I thought that, y'know, that maybe I'd hurt you, and then, pshh." He remembered spilling his guts to Serena about how he wanted Mishka to like him. "Didn't wanna fuck you up or, y'know, risk not having you anymore, so ... I fuckin', just ... figured out how t'be a better person and shit. You did that. Fuck you." He kissed Mishka's head again. "I love you. You're so fucking good. Always so fucking good. You just fucking get better, you know that? So fuckin' ... god. So good," he mumbled. He didn't have anything else. Mishka was so fucking great at saying shit. Just so fucking good. he sniffled. Fuck. Coyote: “I know,” Mishka said. “I know I’m good. And you’re good, too. But I know you don’t believe me. So I’ll just keep saying it as long as you need to hear it. It’s okay. You don’t have to believe me.” He was just muttering, now, words dissolving on his tongue while he said them. “I don’t think we should make you a vampire,” Mishka said. “I made... Tricksy a lich... and... I thought... what’s the worst that could happen? I thought she’d be fine. But then she... then she wasn’t. I don’t want you to be like her. I don’t want you to be dead. She got cold. She lost all her— lost all her feelings. She didn’t love me anymore.” He pushed the hair out of Hansel’s face. Izzy: Hansel ignored that first part, because psshh. Psshh. Fuckin' ... fuckin' Mishka, all reading his mind and shit. He was so fucking smart. "Vampires aren't liches," he said, like he knew what he was fucking talking about. "Fuckin' whole different fuckin' thing. 'Cause zombies ain't fuckin' liches either, right? Fuckin' different." He paused. He guessed zombies and liches were both pretty fucking bad, though. That wasn't a good argument. "You're right though, huh. You're so fucking smart, ahuvi." He leaned his forehead against Mishka's, closing his eyes. "I can be a vampire, though. Won't fucking change anything. Not gonna fuckin' stop loving you for goddamn anything. I'll fuckin' -- I'll fuckin' fight vampirism if I got to," he decided. "Fuckin' love you so much." Coyote: “Mm. I know you will, neshama. I know.” He traced the new scar on Hansel’s face with the tips of his fingers. “Hey. What if I could... take half my life and give it to you? Three hundred years for me, three hundred for you.” He chuckled. “Fuck, maybe we split it three ways with your boyfriend. Even ground, the three of us.” Izzy: "Sounds fuckin' ..." Great, maybe? Even ground. Yeah. God, then he wouldn't have to think about how he was going to get older and older and Mishka would keep just staying the same. And he wouldn't have to think about how Goro was ... was gonna catch up to him, kind of, and he was gonna want kids, and Hansel already had a fucking slew of'em and if he picked up any more at that age he'd die before they were ready for him to leave them. Then he wouldn't have to think about how he was going to leave all of them before he was ready. "You'd do that?" He didn't like the idea of stealing Mishka's time, but -- but if Mishka wanted to give it to him ... "That's a fucking option? You can -- do that?" Coyote: Mishka was silent a long time, chewing the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, okay,” Mishka said. “There’s, uh, this— thing I’ve been... investigating... listen, I’m sorry I didn’t mention it before, but— I wanted to look into it more.” Mishka kept tracing the lines on Hansel’s face. He felt a lot more sober, suddenly. “There’s an old legend in Alabaster. There once was an ancient mage, they say, who created a ritual that let him steal the lives of others. Captives. They say the mage lived forever. And I thought... what if we could do that? Dig it up. Learn to cast it. Do it, you and me. And you take half of mine, or... however we divide it. Yeah. I’d do that. That’s... what I’d like to do, if... if you want to do that. If it works.” Izzy: "Huh." Hansel stared off into space for a second, then looked back to Mishka's face. "God, that's fuckin' great. I fucking love that. Fuckin' dumbshit mage using this magic to fuck with people, we come along and fuckin' ... make a goddamn happily ever after out of it. Yeah. Yeah, I fucking love that, khochav. That's fuckin' amazing." Mishka looked all nervous about it, or something, so Hansel, leaned in to kiss his lips, and his cheeks, and eyes, and nose, and forehead, mumbling, "Fucking amazing. You're so fucking smart. Fuckin' great. Let's do it. I love you." Coyote: Mishka hummed, pleased. He started arranging logistics in his head. No. No, that was too hard when he was this drunk. He sniffed. He was just— so fucking happy. Even if he did give give half his life to Hansel— or if the three of them parceled out their lifespans— he sort’ve doubted they’d die of old age. Mishka never imagined himself getting old. They’d probably die in some blaze of glory fighting a tarrasque at the end of the world. Who knew. But this gave them more time. They could die in fifty years, or a hundred, or two hundred. They’d never have to worry about running out the clock. God. Where was Roddy? He missed Roddy. He wanted to hug Roddy and cry. Maybe they could make Roddy live longer, too. Fuck. Fucking tortles. Mishka sniffled. Not Jonn, though. Fuck Jonn. Abby: So. Roddy took a little bit longer getting water than he'd meant to. First he'd had to go get more booze- he'd left the one bottle back with the others. Second he had to drink it. Third, start heading back that way. Fourth, remember he'd forgotten the water he said he was going to get and run back to the kitchen. Fifth, trip over something and spill it. Sixth, refill the glasses and stagger back over, this time without spilling. "I got water!" Roddy announced proudly. "I got one for you," he said, pushing it into Mishka's hands, "and one for you," that one he gave to Hansel, "and booze for me!" he waved his bottle around and grinned. "I'm drunk now." Izzy: God, Hansel was so lucky. He kept rubbing his cheek against Mishka's, scratching him with his beard, and hugging and rocking him and kissing him now and then, until Roddy showed up. It'd taken the kid a while to come back, but that was okay. He'd made it. Such a good kid. Definitely in Hansel's top three sons. He took the glass of water, nodding sagely at Roddy's proclamation of drunkenness. Yes. Good. You were supposed to get drunk at weddings. Get drunk and find someone to hook up with -- which alarmed him for a moment, but then he decided no one here would fuck with Roddy or Luci, so it was safe. All good. "I'm so fuckin' proud of you," he asserted, taking a drink of water, still nodding, spilling a bit onto Mishka. Hm. Whoops. Coyote: “Oh— oh— beloved, you’re all wet,” Mishka said, sitting up straight with a start. “Did you— did you dive into the lake? Here.” He snapped his fingers, and a blast of hot air dried Hansel’s clothing. Hansel steamed in the air. Abby: Dad! Dad proud! Roddy beamed. Bestest thing. So bestest. Roddy wanted a hug. He lurched forwards, wrapping his arms around the both of them. Except maybe he put too much weight behind it. Cause then he felt himself start to slip, and pitch into the fountain, and pulling Mishka and Hansel along with him. Izzy: Ah, shit, fuck -- Hansel's arms wheeled around, trying to catch something, and just finding air. Mishka had just dried him off, too. Such a good husband. God, such a good son, too, 'bout to drown'em all with his love. Hansel might cry. He'd do it later, though. The fountain wasn't that deep -- it was a fucking fountain, not the goddamn ocean -- so he just struggled to sit back up, still clutching Mishka to his chest (husband wasn't gonna fuckin' drown in eight inches of water on Hansel's watch), then throwing his other arm around Roddy to be sure he was okay, too. "I'm so fuckin' proud of you," he said again, fiercely. "Roddy. I love you so much, bni." Coyote: Mishka sniffled, crawling out of the fountain. He tried to find the water Roddy got him and only found an empty mug. Oh well. He’d just be hungover. Mishka gave up and lay in the fountain with his family, accepting his fate. He’d drown with them. end Abby: Title/Summary: Drowning. Roddy goes to drop off a drunk Mishka with Hansel. Family bonding ensues. Category:Text Roleplay